Off to the Races
by Renato Sinclair
Summary: Only remembering shards of his past, Tsuna inexplicably finds himself in the past of a world where he never existed, with another teenager training to take the title of Vongola Decimo. R27. DeAged!Tsuna.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Only remembering shards of his past, a barely functioning Tsuna inexplicably finds himself in the past of a world where he never existed, with another teenager training to take the title of Vongola Decimo. R27. DeAged!Tsuna.

Mostly canon compliant.

**Author's Note:** I've read a few fics where Tsuna goes back to the past / alternate dimensions yada yada but ended up really not liking them or if I did like them, they were abandoned.

So I'm writing my own!

I'll also be writing a lot of other KHR fics because honestly… have you read the twin Tsuna fanfictions? They suck ASS. Holy shit. Not only do they blatantly use the OC twin as a means of bashing to make Tsuna look better, the story is just downright cliché, with Tsuna being the true heir or just somehow being so much cooler! Like bro…that's some shitty writing.

O.K here is the story:

**Prologue**

His eyes were glazed and body unresponsive. Twenty-four year old Tsuna, or rather, the Vongola Decimo, could only stand numbly as rain cascaded upon his skin; not unlike tears of mourning. Spiky brown hair matted his cheeks and neck at the unrelenting downpour. Brown eyes held nothing except for receding shards of flame, swallowed by darkness, like how night swallows the waning sun.

Adamantly ignoring his surroundings, what little of his eyes could only take in the bodies strewn around him, each holding a broken ring with equally broken hands and scar-matted bodies. Rain pounding on the ground, Tsuna's ears could only hear the deafening silence.

He lifted his hand – the right one – the only one that could move, and stared at the sky-blue jewel, shattered like a bad omen, with the last flickers of flame meekly swirling within.

Tsuna's eyes zoned in on the bodies again, this time with a terrifying clarity that made him wish he was blind. His guardians. Past guardians. They were gone now, weren't they? Bringing himself to walk and ignoring the sudden terrifying emotions exploding within himself, Tsuna made his way to each of his guardians, reached out his own pale hands with blue finger tips to – suddenly, he shut his eyes and grit his teeth and hot tears poured down from closed sockets to dripping on the wet gravel on the ground. Trying to use what little courage to go on.

Almost too consumed by guilt, the Vongola Decimo brought himself to ply the rings from each of his guardians' fingers. His lips twitched as his expression darkened, and he put more force in extracting the ring from his storm guardian with extra force. Who knew stealing from the dead would be so hard?

Tsuna held his head low, letting the rain run its course. He shook his head, expression tightening; he couldn't bring himself to call them by their names anymore; the regret and guilt eating him from the inside more than his wounds ever did.

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Once he was finished, head still held low, he observed the rings in his hand. Even with the heart of the rings shattered, they still glowed dimly, as if to taunt him – to give him hope; hope that everything would be fine, that this was all part of a plan, that this was a future easily avoided, that this wasn't his fault that this wasn't his fault this wasn't his fault that this wasn't his fault that this wasn't that this WASN'T HIS FAULT—

_Oh, but it was. _

And that his guardians were still alive.

_But they're not. _

_They belonged to death now._

And suddenly, the rings looked so disgusting and he felt tainted and violated to the core, so Tsuna slammed the rings down on the ground and watched helplessly as tears flowed from his eyes, melding with the rain. He paid no mind to his body's protests or his mouth's huffs of exhaustion and hyperventilation as he tried hard to scrub the rings clean with water pouring from the skies. He tried and tried to wash them of their tainted core, the darkness that he saw whenever he looked at the jewellery.

After what seemed like an hour, his fingers were another shade of blue, from the cold and pink, from the rawness against the gravel. Tsuna screamed in frustration and ignored the pounding in his ears at the sounds he made. They were sounds of pure emotion; anger, grief and regret.

He continued to scream, to cry as he repeatedly bash the rings on the hard, gravel ground, ignoring the tearing of the flesh on his fingers.

_Strike_.

His hand was bleeding, but he was numb to the pain.

_Strike. _

His tears clouded his eyes until everything was a blur.

_Strike. _

_Strike. _

_Strike. _

He couldn't see the sparks that flew out of the rings. Rings that still held the faintest glow of power.

_Strike._

With a pained moan, Tsuna lifted his hand and shakily, stubbornly contorted his hand into a gruesome fist, his very own sky ring blazing, adorned on his finger.

Tsuna saw flashes of his past as a spectrum of emotions assaulted him like spears, piercing the growing shadows of his soul.

He slowly and shakily lifted his hand. He closed his eyes. When they reopened, a dark blue replaced the usual orange.

Tsuna bit his lips.

And then he aimed at the group of rings sitting innocently on the ground to punch those wretched lights with his dying will.

_SLAM_

It was a deafening reverberation.

The earth cracked.

The trees' wood groaned.

The winds blew a haunting song.

And the rain flooded.

All mourning the death of the sky.

Losing consciousness, Tsuna was happy for the relief of darkness.

Let him forget the guilt gnawing at his heart, the regret constricting his throat and the tears of anger flow through his eyes. Let him forget his biggest mistake. Let him forget his biggest weakness. Let him forget who he was. The mafia. The flames. Everything that made him Tsunayoshi Sawada, Vongola Decimo.

Let him forget, _and never remember. _

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There's the first chapter! Next one's coming soon. Next chapter won't be as angstangstangst…probably.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: **Only remembering shards of his memories of his previous life, Tsuna inexplicably finds himself in the past. The past of a world where he never existed. R27! DeAged Tsuna.

**Author's Note: **When I wrote 'barely functioning' I never meant it as 'Tsuna is a literal vegetable'. Oops. (I changed it now). This chapter might be confusing but it'll all get cleared up later I promise! You can still ask questions though and I'll answer unless it's literally "what is going to be the ending".

**Just in case you didn't know: Reborn's proper name is Renato Sinclair. (It's canon) **

_italics = flash back / dream / _

I can't write Italian because I don't want to butcher that language with a translator.

** Silvermoon170**: I hope this chapter answers some of your questions (I'm sorry I don't know how to answer without spoiling sdfasdf)

** GreenDrkness**: Alright, I'll try reading it, and hmmm... a (the only) twin Tsuna story that I enjoyed was Troublesome Discoveries by .Enadi, even though I'm not exactly fond of Fem!Tsuna stories as they're mostly used so the couples are heterosexual.

Song Rec: Lost My Pieces by Hashimoto Yukari

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_He was dreaming, he was sure of it. So why did it feel so real? The trees circled around him in an unnamed forest, endlessly appearing as his naked feet slowly navigated the mossy forest ground. Slowly, clear drops of water slid from leaves' branches down to his face, to which Tsuna ignored. Sniffing, Tsuna frowned - there was blood in the air._

_He followed the trail, although it was difficult with his hyper-intuition screaming at him to run away - run far, far away. Curiosity got the better of him, and the brunette trudged on. The walk was tiring as the forest held many traps that hid itself amongst roots and stones. It didn't take long for beads of sweat to roll down from the roots of his hair down to his face and neck. He then came to a small clearing where two dark figures seemed to be situated - one was on the ground and the other leaning over it. When he saw familiar, spiky, brown hair, Tsuna's eyes widened in shock as he seemed to be forcibly pulled into a person's body - like a first person vision, except he wasn't him. He was only inside him - a person that looked like him. So why, why did he feel so much pain and grief?_

_He stared down at the sight in arms. A man with spiky black hair and exceptionally pale skin lay there with eyes half lidded and they looked, they looked - dead. Just by looking at his eyes, Tsuna felt as if he was drowning in a world of pain. He felt his other shudder in all too familiar grief, however this seemed to win above all the others. 'Just who is this man?' Tsuna wondered curiously above his other self's pain._

_With grief that wasn't his, and tearful eyes that stared - lovingly, grievingly, blazing with guilt and self-hatred - at the dying man, who was dressed in what would have been a crisp black suit - hands that held the man so gently and yet with such stubbornness (his body was still shaking uncontrollably), as if letting go meant losing him, and if he lost that man it would mean he lost the world. _

_"Reborn," Tsuna felt himself choke out. "I love you. I love you. Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou just- please. Please don't go. I n-need you." _

_For a while, the dark haired man - Reborn, Tsuna reminded himself - didn't respond and Tsuna would have thought he had died, except that a moment later, the faintest, pained quirk of light-blue lips painted by slits of blood appeared on the hitman's face. The smile held too much; it was weak, the faintest of smiles Tsuna had ever seen and yet it held triads of emotions. _

_It took his breath away. _

_It was the most beautiful and heartbreaking smile Tsuna had ever seen. Even near death, the hitman looked as regal as ever. Tsuna felt bile rise up in his throat when he looked down and realised the state the hitman was in. Gunshot wounds littered his body, black suit caked with dried blood. _

_"Can't..." Reborn managed to wheeze out. It was but one word and yet Tsuna realised the implications immediately. Can't survive. Can't live. Not an option. Sorry. Reborn was apologising. _

_When Tsuna found his eyes merging with Reborn's, Reborn reached out to weakly tap Tsuna on the head. _

_"I can still save you - I can, sky flames may not hold the properties of sun flames but who's to know that I can't heal as well? I can heal you and you'd be sorry you ever thought of dying right now and soon you'd be as good as new -," his blabbering was cut off by Reborn's sharp, pained gasp - an attempt at communication. _

_"You can!" Tsuna vehemently pressed on. "You definitely can! You're the greatest - the strongest hitman in the world! If anyone can overcome this it's you!" _

_Reborn shook his head slightly, before he seemed to gather what little strength he had and grabbed hold of Tsuna's hand in a frail attempt of a promise. _

_"Find...me..." The last of Reborn's words left at a higher pitch, as if it was meant to be a question - as if the hitman wasn't sure himself of what Tsuna could do. Tsuna's heart dropped._

_"I...I will." Tsuna sobbed._

_"I will always find you," Tsuna whispered, choking on his own words. "Always. L-like it's written in the stars." _

_Reborn smiled again before the hitman closed his eyes. _

_They never reopened. _

_When Tsuna heard the faintest beats of heart fade to a stop, his chest compressed and seemed to collapse on himself and he briefly wondered if his heart, too, had stopped. He didn't really mind. He wanted to fade away, only holding onto precious memories of Reborn and him together, fade away gently like a sunset in the sky before it's consumed by twilight. _

_When he held the body of his former partner in his arms, Tsuna swore he had never felt so cold in his entire life. He felt his blood freeze in his veins, his tears freeze in his eyes as his heart tried to beat painfully against the metaphorical spears of ice pierced through him. With grief still welling inside of him, a second, almost foreign expression suddenly exploded, like a dam, spilling out unparalleled fury, black like the void._

_._

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_They will rue the day I was left without you._

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He woke up with tears in his eyes and dried tear stains trailed down his skin. The brunette scowled before rubbing his eyes and grunted in surprise when pain shot through his entire body. His whole body ached, along with a desolate pang in his heart. What the hell. _'Stupid, weird dreams that didn't make sense' _he groaned.

In fact, what was he wearing?

Brown eyes looked down to survey his clothes or rather, cloth. He was wearing what may have been a respectable cloak in the distant past however...now, its torn and dirtied edges just screamed _potato sack_. He groaned. Again, what the hell.

Surveying the area around himself, he deducted that he was at the outskirts of some town and noted with growing trepidation that he had absolutely _no idea _where the hell he was. Soldiering on despite the pain in his limbs (it was lessening by the minute, much to his relief), he walked up to a kind looking woman upon entering the town.

"Uhh, excuse me?" He asked.

The woman stopped from swiping the ground with her broom before looking up - and then down, because of her height, and surveyed the new comer's appearance with a wary eye.

"Can you please tell me where this place is?" He questioned again.

The woman frowned before speaking something decidedly foreign which - for some bizarre reason - he understood. Perfectly.

"I don't understand you're saying," he heard the woman frown.

Brown eyes narrowed in concentration before he tried to switch to her spoken language.

"Can you understand me now?" The woman's eyes widened momentarily before she nodded affirmative.

"Can please you tell me where we are? I'm...lost." This time he was met with an incredulous stare.

"Lost, little one? This is Italy! How can you be lost?"

"Italy?!" His eyes bulged out. He suddenly took in the old, tattered buildings and her unusual clothes. He took in the odd, old looking cars that bumbled clumsily down narrow streets.

"I-I seem to have lost track of time. May I ask w-what year is it?"

She frowned.

"Nineteen sixty-three."

Whatever he had been expecting, this certainly wasn't it, as his body let out an unattractive, desperate wheeze.

The woman's frown deepened in concern. "What's your name, little one? You may call me Mrs. Sinclair. Maybe we can find your parents?"

"My name? Oh it's..." he felt his brow furrow and paused. His name? What was his name? It was...it was... "Shit..."

The woman looked at him, alarmed, before an almost horrific realisation dawned on her. "Shit?"

"...hmm? No!" He exclaimed, snapping out of his thoughts, blushing and sweating. _Lord._ Since when did he swear so much? He didn't seem like the type to swear, so who could have influenced him to do that? However, no name came up in his mind, only a vivid image of a swirling, crimson storm. '_Stupid useless brai- wait a minute! The dream! He called himself Tsuna!'_

"My name is Tsuna!" He exclaimed, albeit _too _passionately, if the twitch on the woman's face was anything to go by. "And, he added hesitantly, "I don't think I have any parents...here."

The woman looked wary again and Tsuna inwardly groaned.

"Tsuna? What an odd name. You don't sound like a native."

He - _Tsuna_ \- frowned. "No, I don't think I am."

"I...see. How old are you, then?"

"I...I don't know. Twenty...four?"

Mrs. Sinclair snorted, "Big numbers for a small kid," she smirked, before rubbing off a bead of sweat on the bridge of her nose that pooled from the summer heat.

_'What the hell, why does she keep calling little or small. I can't look that young...or be that short, right? Wait...I don't even know what I look like! Would it be too suspicious to ask for a mirror...or...the date...or year...? Come to think of it, I don't know anything about myself. I don't remember anything...and when I do try to recall...-' _he winced when a sudden, however expected, sharp pain pierced his head.

"I'm sorry...Mrs... I don't think I remember...anything," he panicked, his body unconsciously moving his hands to grab his hair.

"Not my age...not where I came from...I-I hardly have a clue what I'm even supposed to look like." He finished lamely.

Mrs. Sinclair's brows knitted, a troubled expression passing on her face. _'How...odd...not to mention dangerous. And suspicious. Did he have people after him? Was he injured in a fight? Amnesia is no trivial thing...poor boy.'_

"I see...," She pursed her lips. "If it makes you feel better," she gestured, "you look about thirteen."

"...thir...teen?" Tsuna whispered, slightly hysterical, although he didn't know what for.

A sudden warm smile blossomed her lips and her eyes warmed.

"Like my son."

"Oh. That's...nice." _'Well this is awkward. What do I even say? 'Congratulations. Sorry I was thirteen years late to the birthday shower?'_

"You have no where to stay right?" Seeing Tsuna shake his head, she continued, "then why not stay with us for the time being?"

"O-oh uhm," he was about to say no before his stomach growled in thinly veiled threat. Sweating profusely, Tsuna coughed into his hand, "I-I mean if it's not too much trouble..."

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Sinclair smiled as she dragged a dubious Tsuna behind her, "besides, it's good for my son to socialise with other people his age - the more friends the merrier, yes?"

"Y-yes Mrs. Thank you Mrs."

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A dark haired boy walked in a steady, graceful gait down familiar narrow streets. It was a small town which meant that everyone knew everyone and newcomers were scarce, as tourists mostly gravitated towards bigger, brighter cities that caved with opportunity, rather than reside in a humble, quirky town such as this. Giving brief nods of acknowledgement to those who heartily waved at him, he paused to purchase a few tomatoes from a vendor across the street of his school - an ingredient his mother had requested from him at breakfast- before walking quietly along the small, stoned footpath, his shining, liquid black shoes clacking ever so softly. His uniform was immaculate and crisp down to the edges of his dark-grey pants with his white shirt fitted almost perfectly against his upper-body, collar buttoned up to the hollow of his throat and dark grey blazer clutched gently by his left hand, swung over his shoulder as his right hand carried the groceries.

The only sign that showed the summer heat's affect on him were his neatly rolled up sleeves that ended at the touch of his elbow and the small bead of sweat that rolled from the sharp edges of his hair down to his jaw, neck and then trailing lower, pushed down by a swallow of his Adam's apple to be absorbed by the cloth of his collar. The left end of the young man's pink lips twitched in discomfort at the itching sensation the bead of sweat brought but with no hands available, dark onyx eyes could only narrow momentarily in irritation.

Upon reaching a modest, brick-built house with a tiled roof and a small chimney, he pushed open medium length gates. He knocked twice before placing his groceries above his left shoulder. Now grasping both his groceries and blazer in one hand, he used the right to pull out a small, copper key from his pocket. Door unlocked, he placed the key inside a white ceramic bowl on top of a glazed, wooden shoe cabinet. Doing the same with the tomatoes, he let it rest its side on house's white-turned-cream walls before placing his blazer on an empty chair next to the shoe locker.

"I'm home." He called as he slipped off his shoes and grabbed the brown paper bag of tomatoes before heading to the kitchen.

"Welcome back, dear!" Called out his mum, her voice slowly getting louder as she walked from the living room to greet him. She gave him a quick hug, which he returned, albeit with a long suffering sigh - which she laughed off easily - and gave a quick peck on his cheek. "Did you bring the tomatoes?"

Nodding, he held up the brown bag already in his hands and she smiled in silent thanks before grabbing the bag and placing the tomatoes in a bowl near kitchen basin.

"Come," she said, dragging him to the living room, "I met the most unusual boy today. Said he was lost."

He paused, dark eyebrows raised in surprise before a scowl crossed his face.

"And you invited him in?" He asked in an annoyed, hushed whisper. All strangers were to be wary off, and with good reason - gang activity had increased exponentially in larger venues surrounding his home town and it was only a matter of time before some wayward vagabond with Mafia affiliations ended up in their town, bringing trouble along with them. "He could be dangerous!" He tried to reason, however his mother just brushed him off with a wave of her hand, now basically dragging him to the living room.

"He was very polite." She mused, completely ignoring him - _her son! _

His lips thinned, pressed into a tight line to stifle his groan of frustration - _'I thought she knew better than this!' _And it was weird, because she normally did. His mother was a very intelligent woman and even though she lived a relatively sheltered life, she never let her guard down and always tended to stay street smart. '_Oh, how the summer heat toys with one's mind.' _He lamented.

Rolling her eyes as if she read his mind, his mother's expression brightened as she greeted the guest, whom gave a wobbly smile and a hesitant greeting. He was wearing the strangest of clothes, or rather, cloth. The boy seemed to be only covered in a large, shoddy looking full body cloak/robe.

His dark eyes narrowed, observing the guest with a critical eye. The boy had large, brown eyes that shone innocently, an oval face with a small tipped chin and...light pink lips that seemed to bloom red in the middle, not unlike a flower. His limbs were thin and the way his back hunched screamed _weak._ He had light-yellow, pale complexion and upon closer inspection, the skin under his eyes held a red gradient that looked to be due to lack of sleep. The guest's hair were unruly, large spike-tufts of brown hair that seemed to defy gravity.

"Tsuna, this is my son, Renato."

Suddenly, brown eyes snapped to him and everything just seemed to _freeze_.

Tsuna's previously half lidded eyes snapped open in an instant, a clear look of shock written upon his face before brown eyes sharpened and all colour drained from the brunette's body. There was just _something _Renato saw in there - in _those eyes, god, _those _eyes-_ that made his breath hitch and his own eyes unable to look away from the foreigner's petrifying gaze. Tsuna was obviously trying to tell him _something_, subconsciously or not. There was so much pain, so much longing and from his peripheral vision, Renato saw Tsuna's hand twitch, as if longing to touch him, _caress him_, as if a second later Renato would be gone.

Now extremely uncomfortable and unable to discern the barrage of emotions that his guest seemed to be continuously catapulting at him, Renato's jaw clenched. The summer heat did little to suppress his growing ire, if the heat on his skin didn't _encourage_ it.

"Is there a problem?" Renato grit through his teeth, his hands twitching in discomfort. Hearing his words, the brunette snapped out of his daze and a sheepish expression suddenly crossed his face as he scratched the back of his neck, stuttering. His mother may have been fooled, as she reprimanded Renato for his rudeness with a disapproving frown but Renato wasn't a fool. Tsuna's eyes still looked so cold and yet so warm and so...so...disgustingly lost. _'So he's a good actor.' _Renato noted grimly. Scowling something fierce, Renato shoved his hands in his pockets before stalking off to his room with an ambiguous "_Tch." _and a slam of his door.

Unbuttoning and loosening his collar, Renato threw himself on his bed before he closed his eyes, not wanting think with his suddenly soured mood. Of course, his mind disobeyed.

He thought back to that twitching hand and those longing eyes before scowling, suddenly extremely uncomfortable.

_'What a creep.' _

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"I'm so sorry, Renato's never been like this before," Mrs. Sinclair apologised for the umpteenth time. Tsuna just smiled before flailing his hands in an awkward, hopefully placating manner. "I was hoping for him to lend some of his clothes to you but I suppose we can ask tomorrow when he calms down."

"I-It's fine. I was rude too, really. I just uh, stared too long and you know how it is...boys and our uh...testosterone." He finished lamely.

"I really should make him miss out on dinner. Serves him right for storming off like a bad-mannered brat." Mrs. Sinclair scowled whilst she rinsed spaghetti in a holed, metallic bowl.

"No!" Tsuna exclaimed, stopping his action of chopping tomatoes. At Mrs. Sinclair's questioning gaze, Tsuna blushed.

"I-I mean he's - we're growing boys and need our food and it would suck to miss out on a great home-made meal." He offered an tentative smile at her silence before she suddenly laughed softly.

"Such a nice boy," she smiled warmly. "And thank you for helping me with dinner too. We can cover Renato's share with a bigger bowl."

She laughed again and poked his cheeks when his blush returned full force.

"Do you mind staying in the living room?" She asked whilst fixing the flame and checking the pot's heat, "I'm sorry to say that we only have two bedrooms and I don't think Renato is willing to share."

"Of course not! Thank you, really. I'll pay you back soon, I promise."

"A kid like you? Don't be ridiculous," came the retorted snort.

"Hey!"

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Stumbling in the darkness, Tsuna sighed in relief as he rested his body on the couch before covering his face with his hands and massaging his eyes through his eyelids. He wanted to _pretend_ he was fine. He wanted to ignore the trembling of his fingertips, as if every nerve of his body had been electrocuted. But he wasn't okay. He was, in fact, _fucking terrified_. This was too much to be a coincidence, from that foreboding dream to meeting a practically younger, spitting image of the Reborn.

The spitting image of the man that had died in his arms.

_'But he couldn't have...right? It was a dream.' _Tsuna reasoned with a shake of his head, but his intuition screamed otherwise. It brought a disgusting taste to his mouth and he suddenly felt so _responsible_ for a stranger's life.

And the reaction Tsuna had gotten when he saw Renato felt too real; it felt as if someone else, or something else in his body was trying to take over, and it had frozen Tsuna to his core. Tsuna swallowed the disgusting taste in his mouth before hugging himself. It was longing and love along with the deepest, blackest, _coldest_ anger and...and...despair, except he didn't think it was directed at Renato. He shivered. It was so stupid, so confusing and _frustrating. _So frustrating in fact, Tsuna wasn't even going to think about it. If he ignored it enough, it'll go away. Besides... that creeping cold was a whole new...can of worms he hoped would never be opened.

Rubbing his hands down his arms, Tsuna stared at the night sky, moonlight pooling through the opened window.

_'You found me,' _a voice echoed. Tsuna's eyes widened as he bolted upright, glaring at the sky and the stars that illuminated it, his body shaking once more

_'Like it's written in the stars.' _

He paled before covering his hands over his ears, shaking his head.

"I'm not listening!" He whispered to the night sky. "Blablablablablah...One sheep, two sheep, three sheep..." He continued weakly, finishing at twenty seven before he drifted off unwillingly to sleep, reluctant to be pulled into another bone-chilling, emotionally exhausting dream.

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See! I promised, not as much angst this chapter. I would also like to say that it'll be a couple of chapters before Mafia starts actually appearing and even more chapters until Tsuna meets tenth gen so if possible, be patient. These first chapters will mainly revolve against Tsuna and Reborn.

Some questions you might ask:

**Q) What the hell is going on!**

A) Ahaha!

**Q) Is Tsuna going to remember?!**

A) Soon. And when he remembers, it's definitely not going to be good thing. Or is it? Nah, it'll be terrible. Or will it? HHHHHHHHA. Nah, no. It's not gonna be good.

**Q) Why does Tsuna have no backbone? WTF ! *slam dunks fic into the volcano* **

A) Because he can't remember shit! So if you're all waiting for Vongola Seximo like I am (I'm so excited to write Full!Memory Tsuna in this story my god *fans self*) you'll have to wait

**Q) I know Reborn in canon was a dick but this is mean!**

A) Quite tame actually! Also, he's 13 and 1963 wasn't exactly the least prejudiced of times.

**Q) WTF 1963 WILL TSUNA MEET TENTH GEN AS ELDERLY MAN IN RETIREMENT HOME**

A) NNNNOOOO! !Remember, Reborn was an arcobaleno for a LONG time (since they went through Luce, Aria and Yuni as sky arcobalenos). My plans for Tsuna however is quite different muahahhHA- *coughs*.

**Alright that wraps it up. If you have any other questions feel free to ask, unless it literally asks what the plot is.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary:** Only remembering shards of his memories from his previous life, Tsuna inexplicably finds himself not only in foreign land but also the past. Of another world where he never existed. R27, DeAged Tsuna.

**Author's Note: **Renato, Tsuna and Mrs. Sinclair dialogue is so hard to write, but this is a hurdle I must overcome. Argh. I want nothing more than to jump to the future and write it all out there. sdkfljasdfsdkjf. I hope this chapter makes sense and answers some questions rather than raise more of them.

** Guest who asked if Tsuna will become Arcobaleno or will time Jump: **Neither :V. Tsuna will still be 'young' when he meets 10th Gen. How? Well, it'll be revealed ...soon. Depends on fast my hands write (it's a constant race of me writing the fic before my fingers freeze from the cold).

** Guesteu: **You'll understand once the story progresses, I promise!

** Tofldh:** Reborn will certainly grow up to be the strongest hitman, however Tsuna will still meet his past / future guardians regardless of the time gap, despite not being an arcobaleno or time-traveller.

Thank you guys for the continued support! It really makes me happy that you guys liked the last chapter.

**Warning: **I was...very tired when I wrote some of this chapter so...if you find any dumb errors please tell me.

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A slightly run down casino bustled with joyous chatter, glowing under the bright neon-light sign that flashed the name 'Seven Shrikes'. It was a popular rendezvous point as people of all social and economic circles go to try their luck, only to lose more than double of what little they had earned.

In a sight of warm circles filled with familiar small-talks and laughter sat a glaring, isolated black figure, scowling against his poker opponents as his stack of chips dwindled more and more.

He looked to be in his mid thirties to late forties, sporting greying black hair that was slicked back with oil and sweat, dark eyebrows and even darker eyes. His defined jawline is muted by a prickly five-O-clock shadow and the suit he wore was musty with scratches of dust and dirt and clung to his skin as if he hadn't had a change of clothing for some time.

"Another loss?" Spoke a voice behind him and he turned around with a glare, dark eyes gracing familiar, unwelcome features as warning bells rang in his mind.

Brown hair with orange hues, sharp features and blue-green eyes smirked back at him. He was wearing a white under-shirt with red tie, the gun in a beige-coloured holster hidden by a crisp, immaculate white suit.

"Piero." He acknowledged with a grunt, hiding the sharp twist of fear in his gut by distracting himself by fisting the six remaining chips he was left with and calmly excusing himself from the game.

In a second he was immobilized by a steel-like grip.

"Tell me," Piero began, the dangerous glint sharp in his light-coloured eyes as he forcefully lead him outside the casino and into the darker alleyways of the night. "Just how much did you lose?"

"Nothing I can't pay back." Was his quick, gruff reply.

Suddenly, a sharp, bark-like laughter filled the chilling summer-night's air. Piero's teeth flashed white against the moonlight in dry humour.

"Nothing you can't pay back," Piero echoed. "Nothing you can't pay back!" Another sharp burst of laughter and this time he couldn't help but flinch. "You're twenty-thousand cash in debt. How you could blow that much in such a puny casino is a feat in itself. It's been half a decade and you have yet to show any implication of paying us back what you have borrowed - of which I have severe doubts that you will, if ever - a sentiment my boss seems to recently share." Piero walked closer and he was hard pressed to not take a step back and back into a mossy wall.

"And when you can't repay us with money," a feral grin stretched Piero's lips, "do you know what happens then?"

Piero stopped moving, forcing him to cease all walking as well. One pale, strong hand tightened against his left shoulder as Piero reached conspicuously towards the hidden firearm in his left holster.

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"So you found him?"

"I _found_ him, yes, but he's gone now."

"And just _how_ did he escape with three others flanking possible escape routes?"

A pained groan came from Piero when he accidentally moved his jaw in the wrong way, aggravating the growing and blackening bruise.

"He packs...quite a punch."

Multiple murmurs of agreement could be heard from the group, each clutching at various parts of their bodies.

"I can see that." Came the amused voice. "But four on one? How...disappointing."

Piero nodded sharply at their boss's reprimand.

"His skills came as a surprise." Piero replied with a steady voice and received a distracted grunt.

"So I trust that this...miscalculation won't happen again?"

They all nodded.

"Good."

And they all turned to leave, all except for Piero who stayed back as he watched his boss look up from stacks of debt piles.

"Are the men I allotted under your wing free?"

"Of course." He nodded.

"Very well, send them to neighbour hood towns to collect cash from the residents."

"I...see. Anything else?"

"Preferably individual targets."

"I understand."

"And Piero?"

"Yes?"

"Don't make a scene - I'd hate to get the police involved."

A small smirk graced Piero's lips.

"Not that such small town sheriffs would stand a chance."

His boss laughed, shaking his head.

"Not a chance, no."

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"I'd like to look for a job," he confessed to the two Sinclairs at breakfast. Well, it was directed at Mrs. Sinclair. Renato could care less with whatever he did with his life, as far as he was concerned.

At Mrs. Sinclair's frown, Tsuna fidgeted with the helm of his shirt and bowed his head, unable to meet her gaze, instead opting to stare at his newly donated clothes; long, black pants, long-sleeved, cream coloured shirt, black loafers and white socks. Granted, they were hand-picked by Renato, who probably picked his most undesirable clothes to give to Tsuna, not that he minded. His nose picked up on the unfamiliar scent of his current wear. They smelled like a mix of sharp, sweet pine and unfamiliar wild flowers and whenever he breathed it in, he had difficulties containing a wistful smile. Said smile which dropped instantly upon realising just _whose _scent he was obsessing over. Tsuna felt his face heat up in an uncomfortable blush and wanted nothing more than to bury his face in shame.

At that moment he felt like such a...a _sexual offender_!

Going back on topic, while he was extremely thankful for their hospitality, he couldn't bring himself to free-load off them for any longer, especially when Mrs. Sinclair looked to be a single mother who worked hard every day to earn a living. Not to mention how Renato seemed to despise him on sight. Tsuna frowned. After the change of clothes he still opted to keep his cloak because as shoddy looking as it was, intuition told him that it would keep him warm in extreme occasions. Just in case.

"But you're just a child," Mrs. Sinclair pressed, as she had for the last ten minutes. "What about your studies? More importantly, you shouldn't go out by yourself, _especially_ if you have no idea how to navigate this town. What if you get lost on your way back? You could go to school with Renato - ", at that comment, Renato made a strange gurgling noise before choking on his milk, which his mother expertly ignored, leaving Renato to Heimlich Manoeuvre himself over the breakfast table "- and meet some of his classmates. Maybe you'll get along and make some friends." She continued without missing a beat.

Tsuna shook his head, smiling slightly. For some reason he had an extremely foreboding feeling about school. Maybe he did bad in it before he lost his memories? Or perhaps he was bullied?

As for navigating the town in search for a job, it's something he had already thought about. He'll trust his intuition navigation. As for coming home...well, it would be convenient to familiarise himself with his surroundings.

"I don't know, but I'll manage." _'Not to mention Renato's been giving me the stink-eye for the past two hours.' _True to his word, when Tsuna's eyes briefly flickered towards Renato, the boy's eyes were narrowed distastefully.

He inwardly sagged in relief when Mrs. Sinclair sighed and shook her head before going back into the house and coming out to give him bread, cheese and a jug of clean water. "Good luck and return before it gets dark." She murmured and Tsuna could only nod before waving and walking away, not wanting to turn back, walking away from Renato as fast as he can. _Because with Renato came the blistering cold. _

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_He sees a child, dressed like a grown up - a sharp black suit. On his head was a fedora with an orange strap wrapped around the base, housing a chameleon on the left side. The kid's face looked up at him and there was a grateful, happy smile on his lips and his dark eyes shone brightly. _

_"Tsuna. It's thanks to you that I can still live."_

Tsuna's eyes opened with a snap, his mind replaying segments of the dream over and over again.

Still not entirely awake and yet swimming with thoughts, Tsuna pushed the hair scratching at his face back with his hands, letting a out a long breath he didn't know he was holding. He had remained sleeping on the sofa at nights and navigating through a deceptively small town in his wake, trying to be inconspicuous beneath judgemental eyes.

He never liked the night - when twilight overrode the sunset's warmth, the feeling of choking darkness returns.

That same uneasy feeling from before had come back, seemingly lodging uncomfortably at his throat, making it painful practice to swallow. He looked up at the sky in attempt to tell time. From the light mist and pale hue, Tsuna guessed it to be perhaps four AM.

Now, Tsuna is a simple, reasonable man. Or at least he thought he was - who knew what happened to him pre-amnesia. Back on topic - Tsuna was a simple man with simple thoughts. He liked to eat spaghetti and drink water and sleep on cushiony surfaces. He was, by no means, superstitious, but these recurring dreams not only unsettled him, but also sent him on an edge of constant guard.

He didn't understand what they meant but at the same time he couldn't just brush it off either; somehow, his intuition told him that these movie-like scenes playing in his limbo of unconsciousness were _important_.

The dreams came up blurred around the edges, like in a fantastical world, playing again and again like a broken record. He dreamt of tempest of storms; he could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack, all illuminating the sky. He dreamt of clouds flowing through him in calm, free and aloof serenity.

There were lots of different storms and clouds, as there were different suns, shining brightly as it paint the sky in a an array of colours. Yet in all his dreams about faraway suns, Reborn shone the brightest of them all.

That man was so blinding, standing so tall, so proud. Like light and power compressed to a mortal vessel with molten flames licking at his suit, begging to be released. Tsuna would be lying through his teeth if he said that that imagery didn't fluster him in the slightest. Though Renato's brightness left as soon as it went when the sudden memory of Renato's distasteful regard and Reborn's dead, bruised and battered body filled Tsuna's mind.

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Sometimes...sometimes he dreamt of himself, but he still wasn't sure if it was really _him_ in those dreams. He would always be older and they would always stand a metre apart. The other Tsuna's eyes would always be closed, as if in peaceful slumber. Tsuna wondered if he looked into his other self's eyes, would he see cold shards of daggers and taste the ice on his tongue or the warmth of a sunset and heat in his blood? He didn't think it would be worth it to find out though because at times when he felt his feet draw himself closer, intuition screamed at him to leave that godforsaken place _immediately._

The other Tsuna's face seemed to be in a frozen state of aloof, unconscious calmness yet Tsuna could see, could _feel_ the messy, boiling black chaos churning beneath the mask, like a poison that eats through his soul, stealing his memories, his experiences - the taste of rain fading from his tongue, the warmth of the sun withdrawing and the embrace of the earth crumbling. Leaving him in his lonesome, his soul wandering in the desolate void, with only dreams of the dead as company.

His other self is taller than him by two heads with softer, shorter, soft brown locks of hair that flowed around him as if he was submerged in water and pale, long fingers trapped in metal bindings. Whenever he dreamt of his other self, his counterpart would always be suspended in large, black chains and his mouth obscured by a breathing mask that resembled the likes of a muzzle.

Briefly he wondered to himself what would happen if he was to be released from those chains - would those eyes open from their slumber and lower to meet his? Would he talk to Tsuna, keep him company? Tsuna didn't think he'd mind; walking around town by himself felt excruciatingly boring, not to mention pointless.

Tsuna sucked on his fingers after he regretfully finished the last of the lunch provided to him by Mrs. Sinclair before taking a final sip from his water jug. _'I think it's about time I pulled myself together.'_ Tsuna thought, resolute. He had a feeling that Mrs. Sinclair would have let him stay with them for as long as he needed to but he didn't want to be a burden. If he's going to eat and sleep at her house, he'll sure as hell pay it back. And to pay it back he'll need money and to get money he'll need a job. How is he, a thirteen year old, going to get a job?

Who knows.

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Despite his original aversion to the only school in town, Tsuna had found himself face to face with the principal, however not to discuss educational values. His brown eyes held the other's stare steadily, preparing himself for the words to come.

"Let me get this straight," the principal said, thick fingers tapping impatiently at his half-cracked lips, "You're asking me for a job."

Tsuna nodded slowly, "Ye-" he began, but was immediately cut off.

"And just _how _old are you?"

Tsuna grimaced.

"Thirteen," he began uncertainly however continued on at the other's silence, "but I'll be hard working and I...I -" _'It won't do to tell him that I didn't need it - I don't even know if I don't need it! He will never believe me anyways' _"-I don't plan on getting a job that requires high qualifications or any at all for that matter. I need a job to help out my...family."

The principal's brow furrowed and his lips thinned in contemplation. It wasn't like this pleading kid in front of him was the first he'd seen - times were hard and money equally difficult to come by and to make the cut, sacrifices had to be made - namely a sound education. Although none of the children that dropped from school to work laboriously day after day had actually sought him out for a job at the school, possibly because of the shame and wistful longing that came attached alongside - not to mention bullies that would pick on them for being less than fortunate. His grey eyes flickered to the short boy in front of him, standing with a face full of stubborn determination.

And it didn't look like this one was going to go away until he _got _his way. With a quiet, long suffering sigh, he rubbed his sweaty brow. Besides, the school's oval needed cleaning.

"Alright, but don't complain about the work and appreciate what you get paid." Came his answer.

The responding smile the kid - _Tsuna_ \- gave him was brighter than the sun.

"Yes sir!"

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When he went back home he was growingly reluctant to break the news as Mrs. Sinclair, Renato and he shared a quiet meal of beef and mashed potatoes. He didn't want to see Renato's reaction and possible shame at being affiliated with an uncouth like him at school, working instead of getting a steady education and a respectable job. _'It's not like you'll be able to keep it a secret for long since, you know, he freaking goes to that school!' _a voice snorted in his head and Tsuna reluctantly agreed.

"I got a job."

Mrs. Sinclair froze and the potato on her fork dropped back down to to her plate. Renato hadn't stopped from eating, but Tsuna could tell he was chewing slower and listening in.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah..." he trailed off.

"Where is it and what will you do?"

This time, Tsuna blushed and suddenly all happiness from getting his job seemed to vanish.

"Th-the school Renato goes to... -"

"What!"

"Renato! Sit back down!"

"My school? _My_ school? **_My _**_school? **My**_. School?" The dark-haired teenager seethed, teeth gritted and jaw clenched as his knuckles went white from his grip on the dining room table.

"Renato!" Came the second reprimand; this time with a yank on the back of his shirt. Renato grudgingly sat back down however still maintained his glare on Tsuna.

"- A-and I'll be maintaining the oval by raking away any leaves that fall."

"That sounds reasonable," Mrs. Sinclair declared with a quirk of her lips. "Are your work hours parallel to Renato's school hours?"

Tsuna hesitantly nodded. '_I think it was, at least. I was so nervous I forgot most of what the principal had said.' _

"Great!" She beamed. "That means Renato can walk you to and home from school!"

Renato crossed his arms.

"I refu-_Ow!"_ Renato clutched his pinched cheek with a scowl that looked more like a pout of a petulant child than a vehement disapproval at what his mother had proposed.

"I-It's okay. I know how to get to the school and back and if I get lost I can just ask store owners, like I did today." Tsuna quickly cut in.

"Like you did today?" Mrs. Sinclair asked with a frown.

Tsuna nodded.

"They were really nice!" He exclaimed however was only rewarded with a small frown from the mother.

"I suppose that's fine as well..." she sighed before briefly glaring at Renato, who looked away, before she began eating again.

Tsuna inwardly sighed in relief and dug in to finish his food.

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It's been a month since he had taken up his job, of which had gone wondrously well and without incident, given that Renato was well practised to ignore his very presence whenever they came to pass. Sure, Tsuna heard the occasional jeers behind his back but he didn't care. He was going to receive his first monthly profit of one-hundred and twenty at the end of current shift, which was, now.

No one made the connection of Tsuna and Renato (or what little of it) since they took different routes home and Renato often hangs out with his friends after school.

Tsuna frowned as he pulled on his collar, the hand holding onto the envelope holding his hard earned cash tightening. The uneasy feeling he had all day had only increased and he was clueless as to just what the problem was. Of course, he had heard of vague rumours that a small gang of delinquents had taken to stealing cash and other valuables from other, nearby towns, but what's the chance he'd specifically run to them on this specific day, at this specific time?

Too concentrated on his own unease, Tsuna's eyes widened when he saw five looming figures staring down at him threateningly. Taking notice of the envelope held tightly in Tsuna's left hand, the ringleader of the group smirked.

"Hand it over, kid."

_'Aw shit'_ Tsuna's mind helpfully provided as a flying fist connected with his jaw.

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Tsuna winced in as hot, blinding pain shot through him as his right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. When he was forcefully shoved down to the concrete ground, Tsuna's body fell limply, his fingers still trembling from the pain as tears clouded his vision. His voice was a brittle gasp as he felt the wind knocked out of him again but he still held onto the envelope with hot stubbornness. Distracted by the pain he wasn't used to receiving, Tsuna didn't notice the chains sliding away deep within his heart, clicking against each link as they fell and the surfacing of a black void of emotion that in no way belonged to him.

_'So __**weak**__,' _a deep, dark voice purred across an echo of black sea, _'won't you kill them?'_

He felt a pathetic whimper escape him as his hair was yanked back and he was faced yet again with the view of the five bullies that cornered him.

_'Of course not.'_ The voice continued in a disappointed, dry exasperation, completely ignoring the pained wheezing that came from Tsuna as he coughed up blood. Tsuna's fingers were red and numb as he stubbornly clawed at he ground in front of him after he felt the money being ripped away from his hands.

"Please," he begged, voice breaking at the vowels, "please give it back."

The men in front of him just laughed; it was loud, sharp and cruel and Tsuna reared back as if he had been slapped.

_'That's just like you, isn't it?'_

One of the men held the pieces of paper mockingly in front of him, only to slam a foot down on Tsuna's fingers when he reached for it.

_'You're just like all the others, is what I would say, but you're not. You're __**different.**__' _

Mocking laughter slammed down harder on his pride than any blows ever did and as he felt tears run down his face and snot run down his nose, uncharacteristic hatred welled up within him.

_'Through thousands of courses, never had I remembered... and to remember so clearly...'_

_'Is this your doing?' _

"N-no..." Tsuna choked, the weak sound barely managing to reach the five men as they stopped to look at his abused form with a mixture of distaste, amusement and frustration. "G-give i-it b-b-back." As he spoke, he attempted to drag himself up, only to fall down again.

_'Even so, I'll have to thank you.' _

Suddenly, Tsuna's consciousness registered the words speaking to him and panicked, looked up to the people standing over him but to his growing unease, none of them had shown any signs of speaking and Tsuna belatedly realised that none of them had sounded remotely close to the voice that had spoken.

_'Sleep,' _it commanded and suddenly Tsuna's eyelids felt too heavy and his body too battered - but he couldn't sleep, he couldn't. Not when they still had his monthly pay that he had worked so hard to gain, not when -

_'I said sleep.' _It commanded again and suddenly, Tsuna's mind couldn't fight the imposing order any more as it slipped into forcedly induced unconsciousness.

_'I'll be borrowing you for a while.' _Was the last thing he heard before he succumbed to darkness.

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The previously despondent, beaten teen stood up with a graceful ease, as if his body wasn't black and blue with bruises and his shoulder wasn't dislocated. A dark, throaty chuckle escaped bloodied, busted lips as his features narrowed with disturbing, twisted joy and a smile to match it.

**"Hoh?" **The boy grunted, seemingly amused at the bruised and battered state he was in. He absently wiped the blood from his lips, reducing it to a crimson smear, completely ignoring the way his arm squelched uncomfortably at the forced movement. His cold, gold eyes zeroed on the perpetrators that stood stock still in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Looking at them, his smile increased with rapid intensity and gold eyes flared with no small amount insanity.

A piercing glare rounded on the ringleader at the front and centre of the group and the small brunette smirked maliciously.

**"I'm going to have some **_**goddamn**_** fun with you." **

**Ch 3 End **

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OOOOOOOOOH man this took way longer than it should have to write (mainly because I didn't like the way the chapter went and deleted 50% of it and THEN couldn't be bothered to rewrite it.

There's a lot of things I threw in here and you can make as many assumptions as you want (and they may very well be right) but I don't think I should confirm them as of yet...

**Q &amp; A Time!**

**Q) Why...the fuck...is tsuna...so pathetic...**  
A: Yeah...but...yeah...well...yeah okay. Yeah. Uh. Patience young grassgroper. Honestly though he's going to stay that way for some time I'm just saying, except now, the **other guy **will appear more.

**Q) The fuck was this chapter!?**  
A: asking the hard-hitting questiosn...truly... It'll all make sense...soon...perhaps...

**Q) Why does Tsuna keep differing between Renato and Reborn?**  
A: Because he sees them as two different entities.

**Q) Was that HDW Tsuna? **  
A) No.

Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


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